


Hippy Hippy Shake

by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel



Series: Hell Must Be Freezing Over [2]
Category: Good Omens, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: AU, BFFs, Charles & Erik are BAMFs, Charles and Erik get sloshed on red wine, Charles is a Demon, Crack, Erik is an angel, Friendship, Humour, Raven is a succubus, angels & demons, fusion fic, idek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-07
Updated: 2011-11-07
Packaged: 2017-10-25 19:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Raven is a succubus enjoying a night out with her brother Charles (a demon) until Erik (the angel) turns up, and the song Hippy Hippy Shake is used for obnoxious purposes. Good Omens fusion.</p><p><i>Charles grins. Erik makes his judgmental face.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Hippy Hippy Shake

**Author's Note:**

> In the same 'verse as [The one where Charles and Erik are a demon and an angel](http://archiveofourown.org/works/273330).
> 
> Doesn't really have the same narrative tone, because it's Raven's POV, but yeah.

Raven has shifted into the form of a nicely-androgynous young man and is playing with an older guy with a pathetic self-denial of his own sexuality when Charles appears by her shoulder for an instant.  
   
“Erik is here.”  
   
Raven doesn’t really like angels much, but Erik is at least bearable and has a sense of humour somewhere, and somehow he seems to actually, genuinely be Charles _friend_ , and Charles needs that.  
   
So Raven abandons her game and shifts into her favourite form when no one is looking her way, into the one that’s all gold and cream and wholesomeness.  
   
Besides, Erik’s physical form is always hot.  
   
Raven finds the two of them at the bar, Charles cheerfully doing shots and Erik standing like a particularly attractive and disapproving rock.  
   
Erik eyes her. Disapprovingly.  
   
“You were offering temptations of the flesh,” he says, like this is new or something.  
   
Raven rolls her eyes.  
   
“I’m a succubus. _Duh_.”  
   
She reels in the passing bartender with a friendly smile – this particular shape is always good for that – and orders a purple nurple.  
   
“What on Earth is a purple nurple?” Erik asks.  
   
Charles looks intrigued, the lush.  
   
“I have no idea, but it’s fantastic,” Raven responds breezily.  
   
Charles grins. Erik makes his judgmental face.  
   
“I’ll have to try one. Erik, stop scowling. I’ll buy you a scotch.”  
   
Erik’s judgemental face lightens a little.  
   
Raven has to hide a grin.  
   
The bartender delivers Raven’s purple nurple, and Charles takes the opportunity to order one for himself, and a shot of Chivas Regal for Erik.  
   
Raven has to admit she’s actually kind of relieved that Erik is here, because if she’d had to listen to Charles’ ‘groovy mutation’ speech-pick-up-line-thing again tonight she was going to clock him one. But now Erik’s here, so Charles will spend all night squabbling with him instead of making ridiculous (and annoyingly successful) attempts to pick up girls.  
   
Charles is such a slut. At least Raven has an excuse.  
   
Raven is distracted from this train of thought by the fact that _Honky Tonk Women_ is playing and she _loves_ this song, and absolutely must go dance to it. When she comes back Charles and Erik are arguing over what colour Charles should pick for the new curtains in his study.  
   
“Oh my God, Charles,” Raven says, ignoring Erik’s wince at her blasphemous exclamation, “the two of you should just get married already, I swear.”  
   
This remark earns her twin glares, but Raven’s been putting up with both of them for a thousand years, so she’s pretty much unaffected.  
   
“Thank you, Raven,” Charles says, in the tone of voice that means _I can’t believe you’re thousands of years old and still this immature_. “Although honestly Erik, I really don’t think that black would complement the colour scheme at all.”  
   
Raven groans.  
   
“Black is stylish, Charles,” Erik argues.  
   
“I’ll discorporate you, guys,” Raven threatens, because _really_.  
   
Erik turns at that and stares Raven down.  
   
The slightly-feral shark-like smile makes itself known.  
   
“Feel free to try.”  
   
“Erik! Raven!” Charles barks, and accidentally spills some of his drink. “Oh, bollocks.”  
   
Raven snickers, while Erik frowns at Charles, who is giving the wet patch on his shirt a sad stare like he can’t understand how it came to be there, and yeah, Charles is slightly drunk.  
   
Raven runs her eyes along the line of shot glasses. But then, seven purple nurples in a row will do that to you, especially if you’ve been drinking already.  
   
“I think you should be a gentleman and take him home, Erik,” she decides, which makes Charles look up in displeasure. “Oh come on Charles, you can play chess and get wasted on red wine, you’ll have a wonderful time.”  
   
Charles looks at Erik for support, but Erik just raises an eyebrow at him.  
   
Charles swears, but vanishes with the briefest flash of wings. No one notices. Half the people here are stoned or tripping, anyway.  
   
Erik turns to Raven and gives her a brief smile.  
   
“I’ll make sure he’s fine,” he says. He always looks _so_ much more personable when his eyes are warm.  
   
Raven snorts.  
   
“Charles is always fine. I have a million stories where Charles is fine, despite getting into more trouble than Mandrake. You’re just all marshmallow at heart, you ridiculous badass angel.”  
   
The shark-like grin reappears for a second, surprisingly rueful, and Erik tilts his head in wordless acknowledgement before he disappears as well.  
 

 **: : : : :**

   
When Raven gets home early the next morning, she gently pushes the door to Charles’ study open and pokes her head in.  
   
There’s two more-or-less humanoid forms in there, one draped over a chair and the other sprawled on the carpet, either asleep or passed out, and apparently they both got drunk enough that they couldn’t quite hold their human shape, because both pairs of wings are out.  
   
Raven sighs in affectionate amusement, and picks up the wine bottle where it’s spilled onto the carpet (Charles will complain about that for several minutes, and then the stain will be gone like it was never there) and tries to straighten out Charles’ left wing where it’s scrunched against the wall.  
   
Erik’s head is lolling back so that his mouth is open and it looks ridiculous, and Raven muses that right now it would be so easy to simply whip out her sword and run him through, and he would never even know what had happened.  
   
Instead she grabs the fountain pen off Charles’ desk and gives him a lovely inked-on moustache, which is the sort of compromise that is accepted in this household.  
   
Raven wonders whether Charles will tell Erik about the moustache straight away, or let him walk around with it for a while, because Charles can be kind of a dick like that sometimes. Then she considers the fact that Charles will be hungover and irritable, and kind of bitchy the way he always is when he has a headache.  
   
Yeah, Charles is totally going to be a dick.  
   
Raven smiles and shifts into blue scales and yellow eyes, and goes off to play obnoxiously loud records on the very expensive sound system that at full volume can make the windows rattle.  
   
She’s thinking that _Hippy Hippy Shake_ should make a nice wake-up song. 

**Author's Note:**

> Mandrake was a magician in a comic series that ran from the 1930s until the 1960s, and he got himself into difficult situations a lot. 'More trouble than Mandrake' is an expression occasionally used by persons of a certain generation, to describe someone getting into a LOT of trouble.


End file.
